Sometimes I vomit a cockroach. I just cough a little and it comes right out, it comes right out. Sits on the floor like that, still movin’ a lil’. To me this is not cruel, nor is it sad – it’s the circle of life and I own it, I own it.
Sometimes I speak and nothing comes out.
Just a little bit of air and maybe spit, I don’t dribble, though, not as much as others do. I clean up anything that’s dropped. Not just that I kill your enemies and lick your babies. I rarely drop a flower pot, and only if need be.
Sometimes they call me a motherfucker.
Is that a little bad, who knows. It’s extreme: small, but fierce fierce, but warm warm yet mute Mute and decorated with little white hairs some would say it’s a sign of wisdom
I don’t pretend to be anything other than I am Don’t look like that at me If you can see my belly, you know what you have to do Otherwise, I don’t understand what you want from me domestication does not confuse me I will always be myself.
Sometimes I hear myself breathing, nose-mouth-out.
For a little moment I know I’m the king I looked out the window and saw the leaves. Not only that, they saw me, they recognized me. I’m doing alright and looking after them. I love you all I know you all and I’m damn good at football.
$10 for a week with moray eels! $10 for a week with moray eels! everybody gather up – in fact, you know what, don’t bother (it’s not for everyone)
$10 you get to spend a week with famous famous morays, the eels they don’t fool around – spend it well (the time and money)
$10 and you will be able to hang out with the mother******s see how they go about their lives (more stoic than you)
$10 and you catch a glimpse of chill, something to inspire and remind you work or Xmas present anxiety is unnecessary (eels show no such thing)
$10 the amazing moray eels! no better investment than this they don’t even care where the money goes (it’s all about the ride and they ride)
$10 guaranteed to change your life; no joke, moray eels are not interested in deceit as aforementioned, they're not money-grabbers (they can't even grab)
with $10 you may understand a thing or two about the situation around eels no pressure – there’s customer service (your call is very important to us)
$10 is not a big price for moray eels. It’s not a big price for anything sort out your priorities now (if anything matters in this world it’s morays)
Listen: give me $10 and you won’t regret it. Can’t go wrong with this experience. they wear sunglasses in Spanish and listen to jazz or soul. They help (by offering a sight at something you cannot forget)
$10 for a week with moray eels; give it time and it will make sense don’t wait up – you’ll have time (nothing gets wasted, eels provide a cozy revelation)
I looked in the reflection of an ashtray and I saw you, Kalughin./ I smelled you in the obsolete Lucky Strikes the phenomenology teacher smoked. It was the same day, it was as dry as it would ever be./ I felt sweat and dust, sticky on my skin and that also reminded me of you, boy./ Kalughin, remember when you sat on my school bag to watch me panic about my exams?/ It was like cinema to you, you were laid back like nothing./ Your most tense position was the Ripe Avocado – hard skin, softest inside, and the core, like a hippogriff on crack./ Like a hippogriff on crack, Kalughin./ Kalughin, you don’t have the slightest idea what it means to be tame. It cost us more than you know, but don’t worry, you don’t have any explaining to do./ Us? We don’t get it, never will. I was running for the bus, not successfully, when I tripped and fell and scraped my knee and hand and I heard you, Kalughin./ You were laughing in your hoodlum way, because you know errors, dirt, blood, and the fact that you have to keep searching for them./ Kalughin, your nose could inhale the world if you wanted, but you chose to see it by foot./ I went to a rave and someone was puking in a corner, I thought of you, Kalughin./ I scratched the bad allergic reaction from spider bites and once again I thought of you, Kalughin./ I thought of you when I prevented a bike crash with my weak hand wrist, and I thought of you while sadly contemplating the inert fruit peel on the table and the confused lonely fish in the carelessly designed round tank./ It’s not normal at all. Kalughin, if I O.D., I hope I go like you, with a hint of a pipe smell and a Tom Waits soundtrack./ Lit by a flickering light bulb without a lamp shade, used and left on the side, near the beans and the cheese grater./ I went to a dirty street market, Kalughin, and for the first time it seemed beautiful, and I saw you in the fish and the ice below them, cool as ever, and in the plums going bad in the August sun, and in the all for £1, the invasive Moroccan shoe stand and the neverending trail of elderly customers, being ungrateful for having what you were never given./ But that don’t mean shit to you, boy./ You still ride a fantasy that changed the world, while you were munching on McNuggets and purring like nothing matters.
everyday pistachios they groove like they’re supposed to written all over the goddam walls lit with a second hand chandelier stolen from a corner shop stolen from a Neoclassical mansion stolen directly from motherfucking paradise sold to the seraphims by Poussin himself all noble they must think he is why am I writing like this in any case I seem to like the flavour more and more and more and I never said anything that I meant vocabulary restricts me a lot cynicism doesn’t do me no justice either but thinking in a brand new way is just another brand of old what I wanted to express cannot be contained in words nor in words or flowers or fucking dinosaurs even though I love them I love them with all my heart/brain you see the more I look into it the harder it is to find a solution not even speculation that I wouldn’t be embarrassed to share
whatever we know from within the objects the subjects has to be separated from our projections of them and I want to, I want to but your image is so nice these days
The day I saved a courgette was the day I broke into a thousand pieces
don’t worry, I reassembled them all into a nicer shape this time
I went to the veggies aisle and felt very sad at the sight of a lost one
placing it back does not achieve salvation but no one gets there anyway
Many times I feel upset at a scene not yet complete, part of a tableau
still I’m not the first one or the last I learned to wait and grasp the wind
The day I saved a courgette I said I’d never let fear interfere again
it was a striped courgette it made me think of drugs and candy
It was a regular day followed by a regular forest of here-nows
hard to get used to it, though no time to hang your question marks on a line
Ofttimes things get intertwined Mixed up from a philosophical p.o.v.
it’s not bad or terrifying just a fact w/o a faux fur hood
There’s no cover for extremes just like there was no cover for that sad courgette
but you see, its exposure got it saved from a certain angle
The day I saved a courgette was the day I put my head in the squash soup bowl
The day I saved a courgette was the night I came to terms with this steadfast whir.
You’d think I’s gonna throw it down on the ground spices for the sauce I’d say I’m cute and late and great to talk to nevertheless however unfortunately I gotta finish here, it’s the twelfth one but I won’t I’m taking everybody down with me see, I’m in a playful mood killers should just stay home is where the pillow that smells like you is it time for a haircut yet everyone is still dancing in the street is just a bad song of every swan in the world is a difficult word to understand that I just like you a lot 49 years to go to the doctor before it’s too late at night I lie awake and write this is it, this is the final list here your favourite activities from top to bottom of the drawer then you’ll find my wish is that we get to spend it in Greece or I’ll just fucking kill you are the best is yet to come baby come as much as you’d think it’s easier but in fact is irrelevant compared to the memories are in the making are in the shaking and baking because it’s getting later than poetry hour did you believe me? I sincerely wish you no regrets no outdated soft drinks no spam in your mailbox or fridge and if you want to eat meat from time to time, so be it shame is more poetic than causal not a lot of meaning since the great abstract wave but if there’s anything I want to tell you it’s to tell me everything you know about me in a language I can’t comprehend so that it’s mas sayon nga maplano ang maayo nga mga butang mahitungod sa atong istorya
you know what I mean
and Tom is right, everybody’s talking at the same time is now to set some things straight actually let them stay crooked but just offer me what you’re bored of so that I can repurpose it into children’s rooms’ tapestry I’ve been meaning to tell you for quite some time, too that this is what I do when your voice is too loud.